


your laugh against my chest

by hexburn (thestormapproaches)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Date Night, M/M, Pre-Slash, but finn has a crush, dinner and a movie, im too tired to tag rn its fluff and nothing happens enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestormapproaches/pseuds/hexburn
Summary: They win, and Finn and Mads have a celebratory dinner and a movie.
Relationships: Mads "Broxah" Brock-Pedersen/Finn "Finn" Wiestål
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	your laugh against my chest

When the match is over, Finn sighs in relief. They did what they set out to do - to fight well in the second half of the game, and win a game, of course. Briefly, he glances to his right.

Mads. He looks so happy, a bright smile on his face as he watches victory splash across his screen.

Ashamed of the surge of happiness in his heart, Finn ducks his gaze away, then steels himself. Why should he be ashamed? He’s just won a fantastic game, he should be proud, if anything, and with such elation in their bodies, this is one of his best chances. Quickly, before he can overthink himself out of the situation, Finn stands up and rushes over as Mads glances up at him.

Before he knows it, Mads’s arms are wrapped around him. Warm and solid and firm and- Finn brushes his hand over Mads’s shoulder, trailing down his tricep as the hug ends. He swears he doesn’t mean to feel Mads up, but... His face turns red, and he hurries to give Eugene a half-hearted hug as an excuse for his touchiness with Mads. Eugene brushes him off.

It’s almost a relief.

They’re 2-10, but, while Finn doesn’t like it, that fact isn’t getting into his head. He has seen worse, been worse, beaten worse, all with Rogue. They will improve. And this win is a testament to that.

For now, Finn will celebrate. Mads - lovely, strong, handsome, seemingly ever-smiling Mads - has invited him over for celebratory dinner, the same dinner he always invites Finn to after every matchday, to console each other and catch up together as new LEC transplants fresh off the plane. And Finn, oh Prince Charming that he is, has been all too silly with his crush on the sweet, kind-hearted Cinderella-Mads who so doggedly supports their struggling team.

“Hey, welcome!” Mads chirps - or at least as much as he can chirp with such a deep voice - as the door to his CLG-provided apartment swings open.

“Hey,” Finn answers with a shaky breath.

“Come on in. I was just about to order, is there something you wanted?”

Finn gnaws at his lip unconsciously. “What are you getting?” he murmurs, leaving his shoes at the door and adjusting his glasses.

“Lasagna,” Mads chuckles in that lovely, deep timbre. “Figured I should get something good for tonight, in honour of the win. Here’s the menu from the place.” He gives his phone to Finn, not even thinking twice about how their fingertips brush against each other. “Let me know when you find something, I haven’t called them yet. Oh, and we have drinks, do you want a soda? Or a beer?”

“Soda’s fine.” Not wanting to take too much of Mads’s time, Finn picks out a noodle dish, something simple and tasty, not too expensive. “Here’s your phone.”

“Which one did you want?” he asks in return, his hands brushing against Finn’s fingertips again. “Food, I mean.” Mads hands Finn a soda, too, which Finn happily sips on as Mads takes a drink from an already-opened bottle of beer.

“Chicken pesto, the normal.”

“The normal,” Mads repeats with a grin. “Wanna pick a movie, too? Food should be here pretty soon once I order it.”

“Cool. Sci-fi?”

“Sci-fi it is.”

Dutifully, with routine in his hands and body, Finn sits on the couch in Mads’s little living-room, already connecting the laptop’s HDMI port to the TV and loading up a good movie, something respectable but not too serious. A good date-night movie. Finn had better be careful with those, though; he wouldn’t want to run out of date-night movies before they’re actually dating.

When food comes, they eat quickly at Mads’s little two-person table, feeling cosy and chatting comfortably about anything and everything from their days. Mads mentions calling his parents, Finn talks about catching up with Emil (to which Mads surely doesn’t respond with a little frown, surely Finn is just seeing things), they both talk about the soloQ hell of North America.

It’s nice. Even if Finn has to make sure he doesn’t look at Mads for too long at once.

With food out of the way and a bag of air-popped popcorn at the ready, they settle down, side by side, movie already loaded. “Good choice,” Mads murmurs.

“Thanks,” Finn answers just as quietly, eyes fixed to the screen as the pre-movie scenes begin to scroll.

“You always pick good movies.” Gently, Mads nudges Finn’s side, and he hopes dearly that his blush isn’t visible in the dimmed lighting.

“I mean, I do my best,” Finn awkwardly laughs, fingertips tugging at his collar. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Of course I like them,” rumbles Mads’s voice into Finn’s body through their touching shoulders.

Finn can’t help an embarrassing waterfall of giggles.

“Ready to watch, then?”

With a smile still stuck to his face, Finn nods, and Mads hits play on the movie as they relax on the couch under the dimmed lights.

The movie is nothing Finn hasn’t seen before, and he’s reasonably certain Mads has also seen it at some point, but it’s an older movie that has stood up to the test of time, and so Finn doesn’t mind rewatching it at all. That gives him more attention to focus on Mads and how he’s strong and his presence is so reassuring, anyway. Still warm from the food in his belly, his flushed cheeks, and Mads at his side (the last two being entirely related, of course), Finn doesn’t notice the actual temperature in the room until he’s already a bit chilly. It’s nothing bad; he might even only be cold because he’s getting tired and it’s late at night and the adrenaline of competition has worn off by now. But he’s still just a touch cold, and he wraps his arms around himself and pulls his knees to his chest in an attempt to conserve warmth.

Suddenly, a deep voice breaks through the movie’s noise. “Are you cold?” Mads asks softly, his blue eyes glimmering with concern.

“No, Kold is the Team Liquid coach,” Finn weakly jokes, hugging his arms tighter. For as warm as LA normally is, it does get rather cool some nights, huh.

To his credit, Mads does laugh at Finn’s horrible joke, and he smiles so prettily in the light of the TV and fading sunset through the window. “I meant, should I get you a blanket, silly,” he teases. His elbow nudges Finn’s side again, all too firm and clearly strong yet wonderfully gentle.

“I mean, I’m okay. It’d be nice...” Finn murmurs, still too shy to ask for anything outright.

“I’ll get you a blanket,” and Mads chuckles so deeply and warmly that Finn hardly feels like a bother at all.

With the blanket, they’re even warmer, tucked shoulder to shoulder under its warmth. Heat radiates into Finn through the air and his clothes and the blanket, and Finn quietly lets out a contented sigh.

“Better?”

“Mhm,” he answers, already feeling cosy enough to sleep.

Mads laughs again, and Finn’s eyelids slowly slip shut. Thankfully the movie jolts him awake, though. He wouldn’t want to fall asleep on Mads’s shoulder... right? Well, he would like it, but Mads probably wouldn’t be too thrilled... then again, he tucked the blanket around Finn’s shoulders and his own, and they’re cuddled up close...

Finn blinks at the TV screen, adjusts his glasses, and very, very slowly, leans his head against Mads’s shoulder.

There’s no immediate response.

By the time Mads’s muscle relaxes under him, Finn’s eyes are barely focused on the movie any more, too busy trying to stay awake. Then, a broad, gentle hand reaches across him and tugs the end of the blanket up and around him, almost tucking him in next to Mads. Sleepily, Finn yawns and smushes his cheek onto Mads’s shoulder a little harder for some added stability. The movie goes by in a sleepy, half-alert state.

He’s almost asleep when it happens. There’s a shifting beneath his cheek, a shifting of strong muscle and Mads’s characteristic comfortable-ness, and without fully realising what he’s doing, Finn picks his head up ever so slightly off Mads’s shoulder. A weight positions itself across his shoulders, taking a gentle hold of his far shoulder, the one not pressed into Mads’s side, and Finn turns his head to look at the hand resting there. He tries to ask a question, but all that comes out is a sleepy _hmmp?_

Mads’s voice resumes its soft rumbles through Finn’s body. “Sorry, my arm was falling asleep, so I... is this okay?”

Sleepy, warm, full, and happy, Finn simply hums again and snuggles a little closer, resting his folded knees on Mads’s lap. “ ‘s good,” he says quietly.

Mads cranes his head down to the level of Finn’s lips. “Say that again?” he says, his voice so deep and low that a cosy smile creeps over Finn’s face just at hearing it.

“ ‘s good,” Finn says again. “J'st don’t steal my blanket.”

This time, instead of simply reverberating through the air, Mads’s chuckle seems to come from within, and it’s like a little furnace inside Finn’s sleepy heart. “I won’t steal your blanket,” Mads promises as Finn falls deeper and deeper in love. “You’ve already stolen mine, anyway. I don’t mind sharing.”

“Good, I like to share.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” _Especially with you,_ but Finn wouldn’t say that out loud, of course.

A soft whoosh of breath, maybe a laugh, maybe just a heavy breath and nothing special, leaves Mads’s smile. “Hey... are you comfortable?” he asks, quiet in a lull of the movie still playing though neither man is paying attention to it.

Finn merely blinks for a few moments, still tryining to knock some wakefulness into his mind. “Yeah,” he murmurs, hands awkwardly jumping from his shirt collar to his collarbones to his lap to hugging his elbows. “ ‘s nice.”

“No, I meant like- here,” Mads continues. His hand, the one that hadn’t been on Finn’s shoulder, eases itself under Finn’s bent knees. Gently, with all the grace of a dancer and the strength of a bull, he slides Finn’s kees fully onto his lap, so that Finn is half-draped across Mads’s body. “Is that alright?”

Mind taken by the warmth and contact, all Finn can seem to do is stare at his hands. “Yeah,” he squeaks at last. “Yeah, it’s...” _...more than I could ever have asked for..._ “Nice.”

“Good,” Mads chuckles, sending another ripple of warm depth through Finn’s body.

At last, Finn tears his eyes away from his hands and hides in Mads’s neck. He’s regained some sense, at least, and his own hands learn to reciprocate. “Lean forward?” Finn murmurs softly into Mads’s ear. His arms slide around Mads’s torso when he does, latching Finn onto Mads in the sweetest way possible.

For a moment, Mads just stares down at Finn, who hides once more in Mads’s neck, keeping himself away from the outside world and focusing only on the gap between Mads’s head and his shoulder and the back of the sofa. Shyly, Finn looks up, only to send his gaze skittering back down.

Mads chuckles again, and Finn feels like he could get addicted to that feeling. “This is nice,” he murmurs.

“It is,” Finn says through his lips pressed shut to Mads’s shirt.

A thumb strokes his cheek. He looks up, and in the brief moment his face is revealed, Mads ducks down into Finn’s space, nestling their noses side by side and their faces oh so close. “Is this okay?” he nearly whispers.

Instead of answering, Finn simply tilts his chin forward and touches their lips together.

**Author's Note:**

> hey, just wanted to say that ive been having a rough day but looking through my inbox and all the amazing comments you all leave really helped give me a little boost. im sure not all of my original, fic-one readers are reading this right now but if you've ever left a nice comment on any author's work: thank you. it means so much.


End file.
